Black Tide

Chapter Three: Trial and Error

Kaine sat in the middle of the living room, staring at the rifle and knife he’d created the day before. The realization that he could turn everyday objects into whatever he wanted—tools, weapons, even food—had kept him up all night. He wasn’t scared, not really. This wasn’t some cosmic curse; this was power. The kind of power he’d need to tear the Crimson Dawn apart piece by piece.

“Alright,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see what else you can do.”

He grabbed a set of old textbooks stacked in the corner. Physics, geometry, biology—the remnants of his life before the attack. “You’re useless now,” he said, smirking. His fingers brushed the cover of the physics book, and the glow returned.

The books crumbled into shimmering particles before reforming into a sleek, futuristic handgun with glowing blue accents along the barrel. It looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Kaine whistled low. “Damn. I could probably charge admission for this.”

He tested the weight, aimed at the wall, and imagined pulling the trigger. To his surprise, the gun emitted a soft hum, the glow intensifying. A small burst of light shot out, leaving a scorch mark on the drywall.

“Well, shit.” He grinned, unable to stop the rush of excitement. “I’m a walking armory.”

Kaine moved to the garage next. He dragged a pile of junk—scrap metal, old bike parts, and a rusted toolbox—into a corner. Focusing, he ran his hands over the pile, feeling the materials shift and combine under his touch. Within moments, he’d crafted a gauntlet-like weapon that slid over his left arm, complete with a built-in blade and what appeared to be a grappling hook mechanism.

“Batman’s got nothing on me,” he muttered, flexing his arm to test the gauntlet’s mobility. The blade slid out with a satisfying click, and the grappling hook fired, embedding itself into the garage ceiling. Kaine tugged on the cord, feeling it lock into place.

“Alright, retract.” The hook zipped back with a mechanical whir, and Kaine nearly lost his balance. “Okay, maybe needs a little fine-tuning.”

Over the next few hours, Kaine pushed his powers to their limits. He learned that as long as objects were touching, he could combine their mass into a single transformation. A pile of bricks, a broken chair, and a toaster became a fully functioning drone with cameras and a turret. A stack of old magazines morphed into an armored helmet with a HUD interface.

The most surprising discovery came when Kaine got hungry. He eyed an old ceramic plate and a pair of metal forks, his stomach growling.

“Let’s see if this works,” he said, placing his hand on the plate. The glow flared, and the objects reformed into a steaming plate of fried chicken and waffles, complete with a side of syrup.

Kaine stared at it in disbelief. “I… just made soul food out of silverware.” He took a cautious bite. It was perfect—crispy, savory, sweet. The real deal.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, this is officially insane.”

For the first time in a year, Kaine felt something close to hope—or maybe it was just bloodlust. Either way, he wasn’t stopping now.